


Impossible Thing

by ladyxdaydream



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 01:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20631221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyxdaydream/pseuds/ladyxdaydream
Summary: Kakashi was starting to realize that home wasn’t necessarily a place, but a person.





	Impossible Thing

**Author's Note:**

> My final piece for KakaIru Week 2019, written to fill the prompt “home”. 
> 
> Thank you so much to the individuals who organized this event! I loved every second of it. （˶′◡‵˶）

Kakashi awoke in a bed that was slowly becoming his own, one he’d been finding himself in more often than not lately, whenever he was in the village. Iruka’s bed was built for two, as if he knew he’d find someone to share it with. Kakashi couldn’t say the same for himself—he kept a full in his own apartment, which wasn’t exactly accommodating for two grown men (and sometimes several ninken).

It was a grey morning, the kind that could fool you into thinking the sun would set soon, despite having risen only two hours ago. Rain pattered softly against the window behind his head, thunder rumbling in the distance, as he wondered if it had already been raining when Iruka left this morning.

He lazily rolled over, twisting the sheets around his torso in the process. He found a shirt, which was probably red once, but had faded to a soft pink—well worn and threadbare—neatly folded next to his pillow. He smiled, bringing the fabric to his face, inhaling deeply.

_Iruka_.

He slipped it on, and adjusted the collar. It was a little big on him; Iruka’s shoulders were broader than his own, but he liked the loose fit. It was much less constricting than the tank top he donned beneath everything; the one that snaked up his neck like spandex, ending seamlessly in his mask.

Kakashi remembered the first time he’d put on this particular shirt of Iruka’s. It was after he had been released from the hospital a month ago, from a serious case of chakra depletion. Iruka insisted he stay with him while he recovered, despite Kakashi’s reluctance. He hadn’t spent an entire night with Iruka at that point yet, and he knew his nightmares tended to flare while his chakra was low.

They had both slept like shit, not used to the additional presence. Kakashi had tossed and turned, startling awake more than once. He knew he had kept Iruka up as a result, causing him to jump out of bed the following morning, late for the Academy. He had watched Iruka scramble about his room in a panic, as he ripped his sleep shirt over his head and tossed it onto the bed.

When Iruka had left for class, Kakashi had absentmindedly brought it to his face, and breathed in. It had soothed him in a way he never imagined possible. Having been shirtless himself, he had slipped into the shirt, welcoming Iruka’s residual warmth. His scent had been all over it, lulling him peacefully back to sleep (sans-nightmares), where he remained until Iruka came home in the evening.

He had been highly embarrassed when Iruka caught him, having had every intention of taking if off before Iruka came home. He had quickly dove beneath the comforter, trying to hide the evidence, refusing to emerge until his blush died down, only to have had it flare again, the minute Iruka yanked the blanket back.

_Hatake_ _Kakashi_ _is_ _a_ _fucking_ _romantic_, Iruka had laughed and simultaneously swooned. Iruka had been standing on the bed above him, one foot on either side of his torso, before dropping to his knees to shower him in kisses, embarrassing Kakashi further.

It had become sort of a “thing” ever since. Iruka made a point to wear the shirt to sleep whenever Kakashi was chakra depleted, knowing he’d put it on the following morning when Iruka went to work. It kept Kakashi in the house, forcing him to rest, since he didn’t dare go out in civilian clothes. Well, at least not in his boyfriend’s pink, Ichiraku Ramen t-shirt—details of the steaming bowl of ramen having flecked off over time.

Kakashi sighed, pulling himself out of his memories, his throat aching for something warm and soothing. He got out of bed, stretched, and caught a glimpse of himself in the full length mirror. He was wearing nothing but his black briefs and Iruka’s shirt, taking note of a large, blotchy purple bruise that took up the better part of his thigh. He poked at it, wincing.

“Sexy,” he grumbled.

He pulled on a pair of loose black shorts from his pack, knowing Iruka would insist on healing it later. Kakashi could heal it himself, but there was something about Iruka’s healing chakra caressing and penetrating his skin that brought much more relief to his aching body than he could ever bring to himself.

Selfishly, he liked being the center of Iruka’s attention. He loved his quiet murmurings as he chastised Kakashi about being more careful, his brow knitting together in concern and concentration, even if the wound was far from serious, and entirely unavoidable. He imagined Iruka extending the same tenderness to his students, whenever they injured themselves, and it made Kakashi’s heart do impossible things.

Iruka seemed like an impossible thing.

Kakashi was grateful for these moments alone in Iruka’s apartment; he could smile unabashedly about how much he felt for the other man, surrounded by things that were so undeniably Iruka.

Kakashi still kept a cap on his emotions around him. Showing his vulnerability was something he was still learning how to do. It didn’t come easy— sometimes Iruka intimidated him more than an S-rank mission—but it was the first time Kakashi was willing to try and expose himself, even if it was painfully slow progress. Iruka was known in Konoha for his quick temper, but he could be incredibly patient when the situation called for it, and he’d been nothing but.

Some of Kakashi’s own things had found their way here: a few of his books sat on Iruka’s shelves, his favorite tea in the cupboard; his green shuriken blanket was neatly draped over the back of the couch, with his matching scarf hanging from the coat rack. Kakashi rarely wore it anymore, but held onto it for nostalgic purposes (he let Iruka wear it in the house, when the temperature dropped). He had even brought Mr. Ukki, which sat on a window ledge next to Iruka’s own plants, flanking the door to the small porch.

Kakashi bypassed the plant on his way to the kitchen, grazing his fingers against the leaves. He put on a pot of water for tea, before rummaging in the cupboard in search of something to eat. He settled on rice crackers, and a tin of small, salty fish, too lazy to cook at the moment. As he was closing the door to the cupboard, he glimpsed a bag of expensive, high quality jerky on the top shelf. He shook his head, sighing a little. He had told Iruka not to waste his (small) paycheck on costly treats for his ninken, considering they’d eat anything, but it seems he was ignored.

Kakashi couldn’t help but smile, his dogs did go particularly apeshit for it.

Well, if Iruka was going to spoil his ninken, he was going to spoil Iruka.

He collected his tea, plucked a book from the shelf, and settled into the couch, biding his time until Iruka came home.

—

Kakashi felt Iruka before he saw him. Sensing he was a little strained, Kakashi went to open the door, finding Iruka with his arms full.

“Ah, thank you,” he smiled. “What have you been doing all day? Something smells won—“ Iruka went to say, but stopped when he saw an elaborate spread on the table. All the dishes were covered, to keep in the heat. 

Kakashi may not be able to use his words to tell Iruka how much he cared for him, but he could use his actions, and he’d always been confident with his cooking ability.

Iruka turned to him, eyes shining.

“You’ve been busy I see.”

Kakashi shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

“I sort of cleaned out the fridge.”

“It’s a good thing I brought groceries, then,” Iruka teased, placing the bags on the counter. He walked towards Kakashi, causing his pulse to quicken. “You were supposed to be resting,” Iruka softly scorned.

“Cooking relaxes me.”

“Hm,” Iruka said when he reached him, sliding his hands over Kakashi’s hips to rest at the small of his back. “You got soy sauce on my favorite shirt.”

Iruka bent down to press his mouth into the stain on his abdomen, before pulling the fabric lightly with this teeth.

“Oh, shit,” Kakashi said, looking down at it, trying to keep the control in his voice. “I’m sorry. I should have taken it off.” 

“I can take it off for you,” Iruka said, his hands slipping beneath it, latching onto the hem, as Kakashi raised his arms in compliance.

Kakashi leaned heavily into the counter he was propped against, allowing his head to drop back as Iruka pressed kisses along his scarred chest. One of Kakashi’s hands ventured past Iruka’s open flak jacket, to graze down his side, coming to rest on his hip. Kakashi parted his lips in a content gasp, which must have beckoned Iruka to his mouth, because he came to kiss him. It was soft and deep—the kind of thing that made Kakashi’s knees quake.

Damn it all to hell; Kakashi _was_ a romantic at heart, and Iruka’s passion was the stuff his dreams were made of (literally).

Kakashi curled his fingers into Iruka’s hair, before pulling out the tie, wanting his whole hand to get lost it in. Kakashi broke their kiss to nuzzle his face into Iruka’s hair, behind his ear, near the nape of his neck, where the smell of him was concentrated the most. His heightened sense of smell became flooded with Iruka’s scent. His head swam with it, sending a wave of warmth to the rest of his body. He closed his eyes, wanting to drown in it. Iruka smelled like…

…well, Iruka smelled like home.

Kakashi _could_ make this his home. Iruka had mentioned they move in together, but it was timid. It was said quietly in the night during a storm—similar to the one gathering now—when they were curled up on the couch, engrossed in their own reading. Kakashi hadn’t responded, because he didn’t have an answer, having been shocked into silence. Iruka didn’t ask again, and Kakashi was under the impression that Iruka thought he hadn’t heard.

Kakashi had heard. And he’d been thinking about it ever since—thinking, analyzing, picking it a part, ripping it to shreds, putting it back together, only to tear it down again.

…Then he’d almost died on a mission, and his ghost gave him an answer.

(_heaven_ _is_ _a_ _place_ _we_ _know_. _heaven_ _is_ _the_ _arms_ _that_ _hold_ _us_ _long_ _before_ _we_ _go_)

It was clear to him now.

“Can I stay here again tonight?” Kakashi asked, fiddling with the zipper on the bottom of Iruka’s flak jacket.

“Of course,” Iruka said, without hesitation.

“And tomorrow.”

“Sure. For as long as—“

“And the next day. And the one after that. And the one after that.”

Kakashi gave him a warm look, causing a huge smile to crack across Iruka’s face. 

“You heard me?” Iruka blushed. “I thought…”

Kakashi curved his eye into a smile, scratching at the back of his head.

“I may have.”

“Hm.” Iruka mused, trailing a finger lightly across his chest. “I don’t know what I want first. Our dinner or you,” he said, tapping his finger against Kakashi’s clavicle, before dragging his blunt nails down Kakashi’s torso, curling them under his waistband.

“Now, sensei. I’ve worked so hard for you,” Kakashi said, flicking his good eye to the table.

“Mm. And I appreciate it. Though, you’ll be working a lot harder for me soon.”

Kakashi appeared to be unaffected, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“What happened to ‘You’re supposed to be relaxing?’” he asked, around the loud thumping of his heart. 

“You’ll be thoroughly relaxed when I’m finished with you, don’t worry.”

Kakashi ducked his head, trying to hide the color on his cheeks.

Iruka let out a loud, hearty laugh.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would never guess you stoically read porn in public, when a few teasing words is all it takes to make you come undone.” Iruka said, dragging a hand down his arm, before entwining their fingers together.

Sometimes it wasn’t even words. It was a passing graze. A glance. Catching Iruka biting on his pen as he graded exams. Watching him absently twirl a loose strand of hair around his finger. Everything Iruka did, coaxed a warm reaction out of Kakashi, whether it be lust or… love.

Yes, Kakashi was very much in love. Another impossible thing.

Iruka didn’t know that only he had the power to make Kakashi come undone; poorly written romance novels were nothing in comparison.

He tightened his fingers around Iruka’s, and pulled him towards their bedroom, making a decision for them both.

“Dinner second.”

**Author's Note:**

> Pssst. Kakashi is a sap, pass it on. 
> 
> (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://ladyxxdaydream.tumblr.com/)!!
> 
> ((The song lyric was pulled from Ben Howard’s “I Will Be Blessed”))


End file.
